


I guess the Woman in You, brings out the Man in Me

by Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cronus being a misogynistic jerkwad, Developing Relationships, EVERYBODY GOT FLAWS, F/F, F/M, Kankri being preachy and overbearing, M/M, Multi, My Little Palemate : Moirallegiance Is Magic, Porrim being a manhating brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit/pseuds/Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck in the strange conjoined dream bubbles of all the Beforan and Alternian trolls, Porrim didn't have too long of a list to go over, but she figured with a group as utterly fucked up as theirs, it wouldn't be hard to find some poor sap that had way more problems than she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Porrim Ponders

**Author's Note:**

> Babby's first homestuck fic. I really wanted to explore how the dynamics of a pale relationship would work between Porrim and Cronus, since he's kind of an idiot when it comes to how to treat people, and Porrim has a LOT of opinions on how to treat people, particularly ones that consider themselves female. Porrim starts off with the manhating cranked up and her scheming at level 11, and Cronus is floundering around in his inability to be the kind of person he wants to be, as well as his generally shitty approach to life and socialization. 
> 
> Along the way I'll explore the flush and pitch relationships as well, and perhaps even the elusive ashen embroilment!  
> I promise it'll get porny, guys. Gimme time. I'm on tumblr as http://ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com/, don't be shy!

She knew that there were better things that she could be doing with her time. Another scathing critique on the failures of a Matriarchal system that still allowed an entire female-only hemocaste to be subjugated into labor that revolved around the care and continuation of their species was just begging to be written, but Porrim found that her heart just wasn't in it. 

Scratching her nails idly along the arm of the chaise lounge that she'd flopped herself dramatically onto some hours ago, she wondered what had brought on this despondent fit. The better part of the most recent days past had been spent in a haze of weary boredom. Even attempting to rile Kankri hadn't amused her, despite the truly impressive amount of sputtering he'd managed when she'd pressed chaste kisses to his forehead in a mockery of pale affection.

Perhaps that was it.

While Porrim had come to be known as the 'hot red fling' amongst her peer group (knowledge of this fact was rather satisfying, she'd admit) she had rarely turned her attentions to the paler quadrants. She hadn't had a moiral for sweeps and sweeps, and rarely entertained the notion of entangling herself in an ashen trio. All of the sex was fantastic, of course. She was a skilled and giving and utterly fabulous lover, and a true gem in a concupiscent regard. But pillow talk rarely turned to personal troubles and afflictions, and she couldn't remember the last time she hadn't touched someone intimately without it leaning flushed or pitched. 

Not that she needed a moiral. Of course not. Porrim didn't need anyone. She refused to be subjugated or pacified, and she'd love to see the shameglobes on the troll that tried. But at the same time...a perfectly fashionable pile of dark fabrics and glittering jewelry sounded like a balm to the soul.

With a hum, the jadeblood imagined the soothing embrace of a palemate, their clawed fingers rubbing gentle circles into her aching horn beds. She could coddle them on her lap, wrap her arms around them and pull them into the safe harbor of her bosom, and instill them with the steely backbone that was required to make anything of yourself in this damned unjust society. Porrim could wash their hair, and show her moiral just how she liked to have hers braided before she went to sleep for the day. They could paint each others claws while they traded the stories that weighed heavy on their bloodpushers, and she could lean into their welcoming shoulder while she bitterly recounted the bloody end of her most recent pitched fling. 

She moaned, pressing a hand over her eyes. A battering ache had taken place in her ribcage, swelling and ramming against her skin from the inside. For the first time in a loooong time, Porrim was perhaps ready to admit that she had more problems than she herself could handle. 

But!

Perhaps she wasn't the one that needed pacifying. Perhaps she could find a fellow sufferer, a troll that had insurmountable problems that she could tackle with ruthless efficiency. Porrim took quadrant duties seriously, after all, even if she didn't always honor their sanctity. 

Rolling over onto her back on the chaise, she stared up at the ceiling of her hive, ruminating over her options. Being stuck in the strange conjoined dream bubbles of all the Beforan and Alternian trolls, Porrim didn't have too long of a list to go over, but she figured with a group as utterly fucked up as theirs, it wouldn't be hard to find some poor sap that had way more problems than she did.


	2. Porrim Prowls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porrim's answer to her problem sits quite literally at her feet, guitar in hand.

She began her hunt the next evening. Given the unpredictable and rather personal nature of the dream bubbles everyone in them had adopted different living patterns – Aranea for example tried to keep as close to the Beforan equivalent as possible, while Damara seemed to find joy in being almost spitefully erratic. Porrim found that it was easiest to sleep when she was tired and find things to occupy herself with when she wasn't, and often matched her schedule to the company she was keeping. 

But she had needed to give herself some time to prepare. Soliciting a troll for a quadrant was tricky business, particularly when you were angling for pale and you didn't appear to be especially pitiful. Porrim was definitely not a shambling mess in need of rescuing so she couldn't go that route. She glanced at her perfectly filed claws, wondering if perhaps the delicately applied lace pattern she'd traced onto the tips was too much. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but perfection was found in the details. 

This was a platonic endeavor and as such her garments were as prim as they ever got. An ideal moirail wasn't going to be slavering all over her cleavage, she thought, sashaying her way into one of the more commonly shared public areas. She didn't need the affirmation of her own attractiveness – that was clear enough, thank you very much. 

She found the usual suspects. 

Kankri was engaged in a verbal onslaught with Aranea, which was enough to have Porrim slinking off to the side, having absolutely no interest in either prospect. Kankles was an amusing distraction at best and a dire annoyance at worst, and if she ever showed even a sliver of pale interest towards Aranea, ugh, Latula just might leave skid marks across her gorgeous face. 

Speaking of Latula, the libra was frittering around with her questionable matesprit on their stupid skateboards. Porrim sneered in their general direction as she leaned against the large tree that predominated the glade-like 'park' in their shared consciousness, a fang glinting out over her bottom lip. It was reckless endangerment at its finest. At one point Latula's careless attitude had been invigorating and attractive, and her proud proclamations of being a rad 'gamer girl' were something she could get in line with, but now Porrim couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the teal blood was just some kind of adrenaline junkie. 

Something brushed against her stockinged calf, and she glanced down, raising a brow when Cronus grinned back up at her, smile full of his sharp shark teeth. 

“'Ey, doll,” he drawled, leaning an elbow on the rounded part of his guitar. Porrim rolled her eyes, noting the carefully practiced way that the troll was sprawled, too posed to be comfortable. His ever-present instrument was draped over his lap, though he obviously hadn't been playing it if Porrim had been able to walk up to him and not even notice that he was there. 

“Cronus,” she replied, wondering if he was going to do anything to be worth her time. His get-up was atrocious, she thought, pursing her lips at the sight of the too-large leather jacket and too-short jeans. She wasn't even sure what kind of aesthetic the aquarius was going for, but Porrim was almost certain that he'd missed it by a mile. The strange stick-like thing hanging from the corner of his mouth was also bizarre, and reminiscent of whatever it was that Damara was always puffing away at. 

He seemed to notice that he was getting a look over, and preened, running a hand through his (heavily gelled, Porrim noticed with annoyance) hair. The motion was almost mechanical and instinctive, she noted, the slight flutter of his fins giving away the nerves he was trying to hide behind his smirk. 

“See somethin' you like, swveets?” His voice was so deep, with that strange fluctuating sea-dweller rattle that she sometimes heard from Meenah. It was an attractive voice, she mused, one she perhaps wouldn't mind listening to more often if it ever had anything constructive or interesting to say. 

It was almost pitiful, the way he seemed to be straining for her attention, chin lifted upward in order to lift himself just even a smidgeon closer to her. His shoulder still brushed tentatively against her calf, and despite his brazen words, the contact was almost shy. What a mess of a troll. 

Porrim's eyebrows shot up into her hairline when the thought finally registered, but she quickly corralled herself, face settling into her 'polite interest' expression as the cogs in her thinkpan started turning. With a soft laugh that was only partly manufactured, she lowered herself to the ground at his side and arranged her limbs with grace, tucking her knees against the side of Cronus's thigh. The seadweller blinked in shock, the odd stick almost tumbling from his lips before he caught it, clearing his throat. 

“Why don't you play something for me, Cronus?” Porrim purred, nestling her hands in her lap. The many ruffles of her skirt stirred in someone's imagined light breeze, tickling at the skin not covered by her stockings as Cronus's fingers began fumbling over his strings. 

“You really mean it?” His eyes were so wide, disbelief painted over his features like thick red paint. She nodded, lips twitching despite herself. “Mm.” 

“Okay, wvell, I been messin' around wvith this for a bit nowv,” he told her, head bowing to focus his attention on his guitar. Porrim found herself studying his profile, eyes lingering on the scar on his temple that mimicked his sign almost perfectly. She wondered what the story with that was. 

After a few moments of Cronus's focus being solely on his music, she decided that he was infinitely more bearable when he wasn't rattling a pail at anyone that crossed into his sight. He was talented as well, she was pleased to learn, the sweet and spritely melody that he coaxed from the strings falling gently on her ears. She decided praise was perhaps in order. 

“You know,” she said quietly, fighting back a smirk when he leaned closer to her in order to hear. “I like you much better when you're playing your music and not trying to squeeze somebody into your quadrants.” 

Perhaps that was a bit mean, Porrim concluded, judging by the way that Cronus's face scrunched up in hurt surprise. He seemed to be unsure whether or not to accept the backhanded compliment, plucking one claw nervously at the guitar's topmost string. She softened it with a gentle, “You really do play well, though. I enjoyed listening.” 

“I knowv that maybe this ain't the best thing to say after you got onto me about talkin' about quadrants,” Cronus started, darting a nervous glance over in Kankri's direction. Porrim blinked in surprise when she realized that Cronus had been facing that way the whole time. What had he been doing before she'd arrived? 

“But wvhy exactly are you bein' so nice to me?” He finished somewhat lamely, lips twisting uncertainly as he avoided direct eye contact with her. 

“I've taken interest in you, Cronus dear,” she stated bluntly. Laying your intentions out plain on the table had always worked well for her in the past, and she had the feeling that trying to be tricksy and play head games with the sea-dweller would only frustrate her. His fins fluttered rapidly and he sat up straight, guitar almost spilling out of his lap entirely. In her peripherals she saw Mituna laughing uproariously, shouting something vulgar about how 'everybody got a piece of Porrim'.

Degenerate piece of filth. Who was he to question who and how many she decided to share her body with? That choice was hers and hers alone!

As if sensing the frustration radiating off of her, Cronus slowly reached out a hand, brushing his finger tips along her forearm. “Uh, dollface?” 

The slight touch drew her attention, and she stared down at his hand, wondering why he'd clipped his claws so terribly short. She'd never paid much attention to Cronus in the past, considering his disgusting behavior below her notice, but...perhaps with some steel-fisted guidance from herself, he could be shaped into something palatable. 

Maybe she could correct his slanted world-views and recreate them they way that they SHOULD be. Porrim could mold Cronus Ampora into the regal violet blooded troll that he was meant to be, and...

She could do it as his moirail. 

“How about you and I slip into a pile, mm?” She purred, infinitely pleased with herself, and Cronus's instantaneous, “Sure thing, babe! Wvhen and wvhere?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter two! :3 If you want to follow along with me on Tumblr, I'm at http://ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com/. Feel free to ask questions if you want! :D


	3. Porrim Prickles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward and mildly inappropriate question of Cronus's part raises Porrim's ire and has her returning to some self-defeating thoughts.

Porrim tittered over the pile she was meticulously building, taking a few steps back and looking at it with her chin propped up on one fist. Her dancestor lounged on the chaise behind her, watching more or less silently. 

Kanaya was a joy to have around, Porrim had decided. She was efficient and intelligent and effortlessly polite, but was built around a backbone that would crush resistance like stale grubloaf. The poor dear had been struck with a case of idol worship in the first few days of their acquaintance, but had quickly gotten over it the first time Porrim had reached out and straightened the girl's lapels and thumbed a smudge of lipstick off her faintly luminescent cheek. 

She reached forward and adjusted a hanger that was jutting out awkwardly, patting it into place among a nest of scarves and a few lumpy throw pillows. After a moment of deliberation Porrim stacked a few thick books on the jade caste and spawning caverns in as well, admiring the all around flavor they brought to the pile. 

“I do hope he'll be on time,” she sighed, toeing a stray ring back into its designated spot. She heard a soft snort from Kanaya and turned to look at her, bracing a hand on her hip. “He's been standing outside for the past ten minutes, Porrim,” the younger virgo informed her. “It has been entertaining to see how long he was going to wait before he knocked. But now that he is here, I will take my leave.”   
Kanaya swept off of the chaise and opened the front door, smiling politely up at Cronus as she stepped past him. Porrim waved languidly after her, stifling a giggle. For his part, Cronus shuffled his feet slightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and ducking his head, smiling sheepishly at her from the doorway. “'Ey, Porrim. Uh, Kankri told me it would be rude to be late, so...” 

“Come in, come in,” she laughed, leaning behind him to pull the door closed. When she turned, they stood side by side, staring down at the pile that she'd been clucking over for the entire early evening. Porrim had set a 'date' for the next day after their initial encounter in the park, and now that the moment had arrived she felt that she was ready to shine in it. 

“I do hope that it is comfortable,” she cooed, taking Cronus by one of his significantly larger hands and tugging him towards the pile, settling herself into it delicately. He nestled beside her, looking entirely out of his element and incredibly unsure of himself. 

“You knowv, I'vwe nevwer really been asked on a paledate before,” he confided, hips wriggling to get comfortable. Porrim allowed herself to chuckle, since she hadn't been, either. “I will admit that it is new to me as well,” she told him, amused by the slight violet flush that was creeping up his cheeks. Everything was going well so far. She was in control, and on her own home turf. She was guiding the situation along with relatively little turbulence. 

“This ain't gunna be a 'rails wvith pails thing is it? Cuz I ain't sure about all that noise, but if that's wvhat you're into, Doll, I-” 

“WHAT? NO!” Porrim snarled, yanking her hand away from him. Perhaps it had been a mistake to tumble into the pile so early. Damn it, Porrim, always rushing things, she lambasted herself. If not a pile, a bed, a recuperacoon. Fast and easy and always fun. Damn it. 

“Easy, easy, girl, easy,” Cronus almost babbled, reaching for her. She swatted at his hand, but he didn't stop, invading her personal space and settling it against her cheek. “Uh, shoosh,” he said awkwardly, cringing. It was obviously foreign to him. “I wvas just sayin' cuz I'm a traditionalist and all that ain't right, I don't think.” 

Porrim wasn't going to be mollified so easily. “Are you saying that if that WAS what I wanted, you would be uncomfortable with my sexuality? Would you be so put off by my choices and my decisions to alter the status quo of a pale relationship as I saw fit?” 

She jerked away from where his palm was curling against her cheek, rising half way out of the pile. Cronus rose up on his knees to follow, shoving his hand forwards again and catching her by her elbow. “No! No, don't put wvords in my mouth! I didn't say any of that! You can do wvhatever you wvant, I just wvanted ta know!” 

Porrim deliberated, eyes narrowed at him. She worried at her lip piercing with the tip of her tongue, waiting to see what else he would say. 

“Babydoll, please, just sit back dowvn. Wvork it out, yeah? That's pale, yeah?” 

She supposed that it was.

With much dignity Porrim settled herself back down into the pile, gratified when Cronus continued speaking. “I wvant it to wvork, so, tell me wvhat to do, kay? I'm newv to all this, babe, so you gotta guide me. Tell me wvhat you wvant, and I'll do it. Promise. I promise.” 

“Well,” she began, reaching forward and tugging on the lapel of the jacket. “We can start with this.” 

He frowned nervously. “But I lovwe my jacket. It's a big part of me.” 

“We're not getting RID of it,” she assured him, patting him on his broad shoulder. “We're just going to fix it up nice so that you're presentable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three. :) 
> 
> And remember, you can find me at http://ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com/. I'd love to hear from you!


	4. I ran out of alliteration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porrim finally gets to sink her claws into that horribly tacky jacket, and Cronus experiments with personal space boundaries.

Cronus had never had anything custom made for him before. It was a strange sensation having Porrim's measuring tape pulled taut across his chest, the jade blood clicking quietly to herself as she worked. She was in front of him at the moment, fiddling with the tape in order to get the most accurate number, and he discretely dipped his head in order to sniff at her hair, carefully minding her hooked horn. 

It smelled like the flowery perfume that she wore, delicate and saccharine sweet. The scent soothed some of his mounting nervousness. He'd never in his life have expected Porrim Maryam of all people to approach him for a quadrant fill – she'd always seemed so completely out of his league, flaming hot and unattainable, for all that she had a reputation for being a revolving concupiscent door. But this was different, and new. Cronus had never had a moirail before, or even the potential for one. They were just testing the waters at the moment, as it were, seeing if it could plausibly work before diving in. He was thankful for her very open and brusque nature, as Porrim had been quick to call out any problems before they could turn into a spat like they had the evening previous. Being so transparent and honest with his motives and thoughts was a novel experience in his book, and it was refreshing to be able to voice to Porrim exactly what he thought, exactly what he wanted. 

Usually to get people to talk to him he had to weave a web of tricky conversational traps to get them to hang around, and he definitely wasn't above laying on thick guilt trips in an attempt to stir pity. But Porrim had approached HIM, and laid her interest plain out on the table. It was just his luck that it wasn't any kind of pailing interest – leave it to Cronus Ampora to be the only one that couldn't sack Porrim – but he figured he could definitely make do with pale if it meant all this wonderful contact. 

“You have good shoulders,” Porrim observed out loud to him, and he grinned, resisting the urge to point out how toned his arms were, too. He was supposed to be holding very still, and so far his compliance had made his paledate very happy with him. Cronus aimed to please.

“That jacket that you've been draping yourself in was far too big for you. It fit all wrong, and you'd have been able to tell that if you'd ever bothered to zip it up.” Porrim stepped away from him in order to set the measuring tape down on the side table and jot some of her notes, and he mourned the loss of her perfume. 

“If you're going to be seen with me you need to be polished and exceptional,” she informed. “You have an attractive frame – wide through the shoulders, thin at the hips. An inverted triangle, pretty classic. You'd cut quite the dashing figure if you'd just accentuate your advantages.” 

Cronus felt himself flushing beneath the praise, chuckling. “You think so, kitten? That's real swvell of ya.” It was finally dawning on him that Porrim was being serious about this whole thing if she truly intended to cart him about out in public as her pale possibility. It loosened a nervous knot in his chest that he'd been carefully ignoring – after all, this whole situation was almost too good to be true. Had he honestly attracted her interest and pity? Was he REALLY in the works of finally filling a quadrant, for real? A long-lasting permanent kind of thing, even, not just a quick fling and out you go? 

“I do.” Porrim turned back to face him again, a sketchpad in one hand. “I'm going to draw out some potential designs, and you can give me your input.” She gestured towards the chaise that took up a good portion of her immaculately styled living block, and Cronus slithered down onto it, lifting a leg to hook one ankle loosely over his knee, spreading his arms over the back. Porrim perched herself in the crook of his arm, snuggling one shoulder up against his side and setting to work with a pencil. He still marveled over how forward she was. He'd always been heavy with the pick-up lines and leers, but he'd never really physically engaged anyone. This was all new territory. 

“You want pockets, yes?” Porrim was all business, and Cronus nodded, inching a hand forward to shyly brush a fingertip over a curl of her hair. When she didn't react he got a little braver, twining the loose curl around his finger, admiring the jade sheen. He watched her face carefully for any sign of rejection, but she was just smiling down at her sketchpad, doodling something about epaulets, whatever those were. 

“What about your sign? Do you want that incorporated into the design?” He nodded again, then added, “On the back maybe?” Porrim hummed, seeming to approve of the idea. Emboldened, Cronus released the curl he was holding and reached his hand up to skate it slowly down the back of Porrim's cascade of hair, wondering if she'd object to what was essentially being petted. 

She paused in her sketching. His hand halted almost immediately, but Porrim just frowned at him. “Why'd you stop? That was lovely, dear. I've always loved having my hair fussed with.” 

Much relieved, he repeated the gesture, falling into an easy slow rhythm while she sketched and doodled. When he began carding his fingers through the strands Porrim sighed, and he gaped at how relaxed and content her face was, lips curled in a small sweet smile while she worked. 

Thirty minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and when Porrim presented him with a collage of sketches Cronus found himself pleasantly surprised with the designs. He knew that she'd crafted Kankri's overlarge sweater for him and that had been good work, but these were garments of another caliber altogether. “I really like the one with the stitching on the collar,” he said, pointing to the design. Porrim had sketched his sign beside it to indicate that it would be on the back of the jacket, and the zipper pull appeared to have a small gem set into it. Porrim assured him that it would be his purple, and he felt slightly giddy at the prospect. “It's gorgeous, dollface. I can't wait to see it on.” 

She glowed faintly, her skin taking on a luminescent sheen and backlighting her swirling tattoos. “I'm so glad you like it. I was rather fond of that one myself. It shouldn't take me too long to put it together, but it will be more than one evening, assuredly. Why don't you toddle off back home so that I can get to work?” 

Cronus hesitated, not quite ready to leave, but didn't want to overstay his welcome, either. He pulled himself up from her absurdly comfortable couch, going to stand awkwardly by the door. Porrim followed him, and with a low laugh, tilted forward so that she could press a kiss to the end of his nose. He felt his face surge with violet, and he choked out a farewell, nearly stumbling out of the door.


	5. And here we go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cronus discusses with Kankri his burgeoning palemance.

“Porrim outdid herself,” Kankri agreed, appraising the virgo's handiwork. “She has always been very talented, and I do wish that she would work harder to pursue those constructive hobbies that she is so apt at instead of squandering her abilities by taking up offensive crusades.” 

Cronus chortled, shrugging. He felt the snug rise and fall of the jacket that fit him nearly like another skin, tailored precisely to his dimensions. The hem fell just above his hips when zipped, and while it was roomy enough not to hinder any of his mobility, it definitely clung to him, outlining and emphasizing his shape. The intricate violet stitching along the collar and lapels was one of the best parts, it was just so snazzy, and the shade matched exactly the violet of the aquarius sign that was now emblazoned on the jacket's back in bold slashes. Perhaps his absolute favorite part of his new jacket, though, was the small purple gemstone that winked at him from the zipper pull, a concession to vanity. He would never have thought of it himself, but Porrim was apparently all about details. 

“She's a top shelf dame,” Cronus boasted, his chest swelling with pride. Kankri cast a suspicious eye at him, and he braced himself for the avalanche that was no doubt coming. Really, he didn't mind at all when Kankri talked his ear off, he'd listen for sweeps if that was what the cancer wanted, but when that famous ire was turned on HIM it was never pleasant. 

“While it is truly none of my business what you're doing with your quadrants, Cronus, I feel that I must intervene on Porrim's behalf to ensure that what you are engaging in is consensual and enjoyable. And again, I repeat that it has nothing to do with me, and while I do not condone nosiness from anyone because it violates a necessary amount of personal privacy, I do admit that I am...curious...as to what your courtship of her entails.” 

Cronus blinked, fighting back the urge to grin. Kankri being 'curious' was hardly anything new, and the assertion of 'nosiness' as a flaw that he himself lacked was hilarious. Cronus had never met anyone more backwardsly inquisitive or relentlessly curious as Kankri, perhaps with the exception of that Aranea chickadee, and maybe that young Nepeta kitten. “It's pale, my friend. Babydoll came to me and said she wvanted to try it out with me, so wve're testin' the wvaters to see if we'd be good goin' steady. So far it's been great, I ain't got any complaints.” 

“So, not...concupiscent, then...?” The disbelief was written plain on Kankri's face, though Cronus wasn't sure if it was more directed at himself or Porrim. He also wasn't sure if he should be offended on their behalves or not. There also seemed to be a note of relief, but maybe he was just looking for things. 

“Diamonds all the way,” Cronus asserted, grinning broadly down at the much shorter troll. 

“Well. That is a noble and significant undertaking. While I am aware that my opinion on your endeavors amounts to nothing as it is only your own opinion that should hold any weight with you, I feel that it is important for me to wish you well. Moirallegiance, while I never intend to experience it for myself due to my self-imposed vow of quadrant celibacy, is a beautiful and well respected form of relationship. I am impressed with you, Cronus, as your previous incorrigible behavior would suggest that you may perhaps benefit from the positive influence of a moirail, and now you are in the process of courting one. Porrim is a competent troll, and despite her short-comings and misunderstandings of justice and what is 'fair', (which is in itself an objective concept that can not be measured tangibly), I believe she will be a good influence.” 

Cronus nodded, as always unsure if he should be insulted by anything that Kankri said to him. The little troll certainly never MEANT to be rude or slighting, and would be struck dumb if it was insinuated that he had offended Cronus (or anyone else). He certainly thought that his intent was good, and that was enough. The way that he scrunched his nose and closed his eyes as he lectured was almost uncomfortably endearing, and Cronus squashed the urge to haul his friend into a hug. He'd learned early on that to touch Kankri without his express permission and awareness was a good way to spend an hour or two getting screeched at about 'consent' and 'entitlement'. 

“I'm glad you think so, bud,” he said instead, worming his hands into his jacket pockets to keep them under control. “Wve have another paledate later on tonight and I'm all jittery about it.” Kankri sniffed, folding his hands primly in front of his waist. “You sure are spending a lot of time with Ms. Maryam as of late. I suppose that's a good thing, what with your courtship.” 

Cronus grinned, leaning forward to press just into the edge of Kankri's impressive personal bubble. “You jealous, Kan? I knowv that wve ain't had a lot of time to hang out lately, you missin' me?” The thin thread of hope that was woven into that sentence was one that Cronus desperately hoped that Kankri missed. 

“I value your companionship, but no more or less than that of our other peers. I hold all of my acquaintances in the same equal regard.” Kankri didn't quite meet his eyes. “But I will admit that I have noticed your absence.” A pause, and then, “The park hasn't been quite as musical the past few days. It was pleasant to have your guitar playing in the background.” 

His grin threatened to split his face open, fins fluttering excitedly. Kankri HAD missed him! When you were as fluent in 'KankriSpeak' as Cronus, you knew that those few inhibited sentences were practically a declaration. He definitely had something to talk about with Porrim later now, and the thought just spurred him further into giddiness. He'd had some positive interaction with his flush crush, and now he was going to go home later and meet his pale-prospect and tell her all about it! 

Life was good. So, so good. 

While he was concentrating on that feeling, wanting to hold on to it forever, Kankri was watching him silently, something that Cronus would have picked up on in a heartbeat if he'd actually been paying attention. “It is...I...I do not think I have ever seen you smile so genuinely, Cronus,” he said hesitantly, seeming unsure of himself.

“I'm just happy, Kan,” Cronus trilled. “I've got so much to tell Babydoll later.” 

“Ah, yes,” Kankri hmphed, face falling back into his slack neutrality. “Well, I have to find Karkat. He missed out on a very riveting lecture about Psychic Privilege and I intend to educate him. Goodbye, Cronus.” 

He waved after his friend's retreating back, wondering if he'd still be able to hear the younger Vantas's enraged hollering from Porrim's hive.


	6. Jammin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palemates-to-be finally settle in for their first feelings jam, and Porrim finds herself experiencing the first flutters of a legitimate affection that she hadn't expected.

She felt an unexpected rush when Cronus opened the door for her, her eyes taking in the careful combing of his coiffure and the meticulous adjustment of his new jacket. He'd even kept the cuffs on his rolled jeans nice and straight and even, his pointy shoes shined. He stepped back to allow her into his castle-like hive, and the naked expectation and happiness on his face only fueled the slow bubbling of affection that she hadn't truly expected to feel. 

When she'd decided to start courting Cronus it had mostly been a necessity of convenience on her part. She'd wanted something fresh and new, and she'd wanted something more than a friend. Cronus had proved an easy target, but now that she'd taken aim she found that her shot had hit the bullseye and had sunk right in. 

Somewhat bewildered, Porrim stepped into the hive, thrown reeling when Cronus leaned in and pressed a shy kiss to her cheek. “I got some lunch together for us, thought maybe you'd be hungry,” he told her, taking hold of her limp hand and guiding her through the twisting maze of hallways towards the nutrition preparation block. Porrim dimly realized that since Cronus was a highblood he'd likely call it a 'Kitchen', just as she typically did. From her quiet conversations with Aranea she'd gleaned some more information about her moirail-to-be, and Cronus's strange fixation with the 'humans' was also likely to have him calling things in his hive by their higher caste standards. 

“Ah, Cronus,” Porrim said after a moment after she'd been parked in front of proudly displayed plates stacked with was undoubtedly his best attempts at cuisine. “I don't really need to eat.” 

“Oh, did you eat already? That's fine, I'll just pack it up for leftovers later, no problem doll,” Cronus hurried to say, scooting towards the fridge. 

Porrim couldn't help herself – she snickered, then 'flipped her switch', so to say, the light that shone from her skin bright and white. When Cronus turned around he gasped in surprise, then groaned, smacking a palm to his scarred forehead. “Oh, shit, yeah, I forgot you wvere fancy like that. I'm sorry Porrim, didn't mean to make things awvkwvard. I always go and forget something important, fuck.” 

That pleasant bubbling feeling churned in her stomach, and she laughed, propping an elbow on the table she'd been steered to. “Sweetie, it's fine. I'm impressed that you went to the trouble to begin with. I didn't know you could cook?” 

Cronus fidgeted by the fridge, leaning back against it and studying his shoes. “Ah, yeah. I learned back when I wvas a wvee one. Used ta read a lot, alwvays wvanted to try the recipes I'd read about in the books.” The shy admission was incredibly cute, Porrim thought, curling some of her hair around her pointer finger. She herself had never tinkered in the kitchen, feeling that any sort of overt domesticity would be against the grain of the message she was trying to send. Or, well, that was a pretty good cover up for the fact that she was utterly hopeless. 

“You don't read much anymore?” 

He shook his head, taking a hold of his belt buckle with both hands. Porrim wondered if that was a sign that he was uncomfortable. “Nah. Got into my music and found a newv style to roll wvith, and the books didn't fit no more.” 

That seemed to jog his brain, and he looked up, smiling at her again. “By the wvay, thanks bunches for this jacket, Porr. It's awvesome, fits perfect. Even Kankri liked it.”

She preened, crossing her ankles underneath the chair that she'd perched on. “Of course it fits, it was tailored to you,” she deflected with false modesty, then with a nearly feral glint in her eyes, purred, “Oh? And is Kankri's opinion particularly important to you, Cronus?” From the tilt of his fins and the dopey smile that stretched across his lips she figured she had her answer. Mmm, interesting. With a flutter of anticipation she slid from her chair, slinking over to her paledate and gingerly taking his wrist. 

“Perhaps this is a discussion we should have in the pile?” Porrim purred, giggling when Cronus started. “You wvanna have a...?” He couldn't quite bring himself to finish his statement, looking bewildered, but she was more than happy to fill in the blanks. “A feelings jam, yes. It's about time we had a trial one, don't you think? Lead the way, dear.” 

He'd obviously been picking up and tidying before she'd arrived, judging from the cloying scent of air freshener that hung heavy in the room that he ushered her into. She investigated the pile while he closed the door behind them, intrigued at this new glimpse she was getting into his private life. Hair combs and bottles of gel peppered the pile of harlequin romance quadrant novels and denim skinny jeans, a stray movie case peeking out from underneath a blanket printed with motorcycles. It appeared that Cronus habitually slept in a human bed, and had dragged the sheets and pillows from it in order to add a more plush element to the pile. 

She sank into it, propping a pillow behind the small of her back. Cronus was quick to join her, though seemed unsure of what to do once he was appropriately nestled. Acting on some kind of unfullfiled pale desire, Porrim snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around his upper shoulders, cradling his head into the crook of her neck as carefully as she could, avoiding his jagged horns. It was...wonderful, to say the least, to hold another troll close without any flushed expectations, and she sighed quietly, relishing the way that Cronus melted into her instinctively. 

Trolls were hardwired to respond to specific touches and gestures, all tied traditionally to the various quadrants. Porrim had often avoided the pale quadrant specifically because she felt that most of the specific roles laid within it, and took a sharp sense of enjoyment in flouting quadrant expectations. This quiet, blissful sense of peace however was hard to ignore. She could feel herself curling around the much larger troll, shifting to get herself arranged comfortably. He wrapped his free arm around her middle, his fingers finding her hair and beginning to card through it. 

“So, tell me more about how Kankri liked your new jacket,” Porrim said quietly, figuring that was a good opening question. Cronus began talking immediately, so she awarded a point to herself. 

“He said that you wvere vwery talented,” he told her. “It wvas Kankri, so that wvas really it. But after that, he said that he missed me! Wvell, he didn't say that. But he did say that he noticed I wvasn't around, and that he missed my music playing.”

“That's about the same thing as far as he's concerned,” Porrim agreed. “You're after little Kranki, then? “

“Ehhhn, wvell...,” Cronus sighed, shifting against her. “I wvould be? But I'm pretty sure that's he's friend zoned me, yanno? He's got his wvhole celibate bullshit thing so no matter howv hard I try he's never gunna look at me as more than a friend. Evwen after all the time I spend with him and all the things I try to do for him, he nevwer seems to appreciate me.” 

Porrim frowned, not sure she understood that viewpoint, let alone agreed with it. “Have you talked with him about this at all?” 

“Nah, 'course not. You've heard howv he goes off about relationships and feelings and quadrants. Everybody's gotta be equal and you can't be equal if you care about one cat more than all the others.” 

He nuzzled his nose against her collar bone, and Porrim hummed, listening intently. This felt different somehow from listening to Meenah's highstrung shouting, or indulging Meulin in a gossip fest or two. While conversations with Meulin had always been interesting if not amusing, this infantile feelings jam resonated something in her. She wanted to listen, but more than that, she wanted a hand in crafting a solution. 

She'd never expected that she would fall so easily into the role of patient listener and pacifier, let alone that she would enjoy it so much. There was a certain kind of power in sitting here, cradling this troll and feeling him bend like putty in her arms, laying his burdens on her ears for her to fix for him because he was too weak to fix them himself. 

“I don't understand his avoidance, honestly,” Porrim weighed in. “Relationships are how you grow your character. If it's the sexual aspect he's trying to run away from that's his problem. Sex is healthy and natural.” 

“He blowvs up if you evwen mention it as a joke,” Cronus whined, and Porrim sighed dramatically. “He's so oversensitive. You could breathe wrong and offend him.” When her paledate snickered, she tacked on, “What do you like about him, then?” 

Cronus wriggled out of her embrace and Porrim was briefly insulted, but he simply re-arranged himself so that he could lay on his back with his head in her lap. She smoothed a hand over his gelled hair, surprised to find that it was hard and slick, instead of gooey like she had thought it might be. “He's so smart. He talks about stuff that doesn't make any sense to me, but he's passionate. I like listenin' to him go on and on when he's all riled up about somethin', his face gets all...animated.” 

He gestured vaguely with his hands, and Porrim laughed. She knew what he meant, but found it more annoying than endearing. “And he's real cute, too. Just all small and scrawvny and so loud, like he's gotta preach at the wvhole damn wvorld. He really does wvant to help, and that makes him such a better troll than I'll evwer be.” 

“I want to understand wvhat he's alwvays harpin' about because it's so important to him but I dunno if I'm smart enough,” he finished. Porrim skated her claws along one lightning bolt horn, shaking her head. “I don't think even he really understands half of what comes out of his mouth,” she muttered, which earned her a shaky smile. 

“But...” She hesitated, as if thinking it over, trailing fingers through Cronus's hair. “That's what I'm here for. I want to help you with your little flushed problem.” The other troll stared up at her with plain adoration, and suddenly somewhat self-conscious under that glowing regard, she said, “Well, I think this has been a lovely session. I feel rather relaxed, don't you?” 

Honestly she was buzzing like a hive of mainframe bees on the inside, full of schemes and plans and thoughts on how she could aid Cronus in his quest. How much of it was for his sake she wasn't clear on, but she had always wanted to wage war on Kankri's bizarre crusade against quadrants. It was insulting that he was so offended by what she had found liberation in, and if she could soothe Cronus's yearning and land a solid strike at the same time, that would be a flawless victory. 

Cronus stretched, his arms behind his head and his back arching up out of the pile with his toes pointing. “I could go ta sleep right here, Babydoll,” he all but crooned. “Your perfume smells fuckin' fantastic, could breathe it in all day.” 

When Porrim finally ventured back to her own hive not too much later, she noted the lingering scent of cologne, and furtively lifted her shoulder to her face to take a delicate whiff.


	7. Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta gathers some of the girls (and Eridan, unfortunately) for a gossip-fest tea party to celebrate the official sailing of yet another pale ship.

“You two are the cutest little kittens, mog!” Meulin squealed, clapping her hands together perhaps too loudly. Porrim smiled behind the rim of her teacup, catching her dancestor's eye and dropping a wink. Kanaya rose an eyebrow in response, too engaged in her conversation with Nepeta to be able to do much else. Feferi giggled from her seat, squeezed in between the two leos, fins fluttering. 

The little tea party had been set up and planned by Nepeta, who for some reason seemed to have quite the impressive collection of purrbeast-themed teapots. It was meant to be a celebration of Porrim's making her moirallegiance with Cronus official earlier in the evening, but she suspected that Nepeta had just wanted an excuse to haul out her numerous tea sets. “Thank you, Meulin,” Porrim managed to slip in between the enthusiastic clapping that Nepeta had taken up as well. She knew that the elder leo could read her lips very well, but that didn't stop her from speaking perhaps slower than she needed to. The longer Meulin's attention had to be on her lips the better, in Porrim's opinion. 

“I'm amazed,” Eridan piped up, adjusting one of his many rings. He was currently the only male in attendance, probably having trailed in after his tyrian moirail. Nepeta was giving him sharp, annoyed glances every once in a while, which suggested that he wasn't entirely welcome. “Never wwoulda thought that useless dancestor a mine had it in him.” 

“He's not entirely useless,” Porrim said with a slow shake of her head. 

“Of COURSE HE'S NOT! He has PURRIM for a meowrail!” Meulin interjected, wagging a finger at Eridan. “And they are purrfect fur each other! Purrim is so chic and sarcastic and Cronus is all sloppy and silly! They balance!” 

Nepeta nodded emphatically in agreement, chiming in with, “Purrim can teach him how to be a better troll and Cronus can help her unwind! It's the meowrail magic!” 

“Besides, Eridan, he could probubbly say the same thing aboat you,” Feferi said slyly, taking another sip of her super sugary tea. Nepeta snickered and Kanaya covered her grin with her teacup, while Porrim decided that she preferred Feferi's sneaky sniping to Meenah's outright aggression. 

“Wwhatevver,” he grunted, flicking a sugar cube across the table at Nepeta, who yowled and batted it away. Feferi seemed to turn a blind eye to his rude behavior, instead leaning forward to catch Porrim's attention. “Moirallegiance is a life preserver! I have days where I just want to rip out all my hair and fork some beaches on my trident, but then Erifin comes charging in to keep me under control! And then he has moments where he thinks nobody cares aboat him, and he's such a sad little guppy, but then I'm there to make shore he smiles!”   
Meulin giggled, reaching around behind Feferi to tug lightly on Nepeta's horn, distracting her from launching a volley of sugar cubes at Eridan. “I always thought that you were pale for Kankri myself, Porrim,” Kanaya murmured from Porrim's other side, doing her best to ignore the shenanigans going on around her. “I may have been, once,” she admitted, shrugging. “But it seems more fulfilling to help someone with actual problems than to mediate between someone and the whole damn world.” 

Eridan seemed to be trying to listen to their quiet conversation and glare at Nepeta at the same time, without much success. Porrim knew a black crush when she saw one, and found their antics entertaining, where Kanaya just seemed annoyed. 

“Your ash is showing,” she whispered to her dancestor, who tried to appear like she didn't know what Porrim was talking about. “It most certainly is not, because there is nothing there to show,” Kanaya snipped. “If they want to frolic about being perhaps the most ridiculously sappy potential kissmessitude ever witnessed, that's their business.” 

“What are you two whispering aboat over there?” Feferi interjected. “Are you plotting? I want to plot!” Meulin turned to look expectantly at Porrim, their shoulders brushing. The two jadebloods formed almost identical 'Who, us?' expressions, though Kanaya's dull glow flickered guiltily. 

“Rainbow drinker business,” Porrim breezed, waving a hand about idly. “Just hypothesizing if Beforan olive blood tastes any different from Alternian.” She winked at Meulin, who smothered a fit of giggles behind her hand. Nepeta seemed intrigued by the idea, head tilting to one side. “We're not exactly the same shade, are we, Mewlin? You're off furrom me by just a little bit.” 

“Olive is olive,” Kanaya said. “Just as jade is jade. If you're comparing jade and olive, though, they're very different, even though they're both green.” 

“I wwonder if me n Cro are the same vviolet,” Eridan mused, and nearly choked when Nepeta innocently chirped “Maybe I can help you find out.” 

The little leo had some shameglobes on her, that was for sure. Porrim slanted a look at Kanaya to search for her reaction to the bold pitch solicitation, but the other virgo was instead smirking at Porrim and Meulin's still touching shoulders. 

“You look close enough to me, mini Ampurra!” Meulin quipped. “And smell about the same, too!” 

Feferi laughed loudly. “I KNEW you'd taken some of his cologne! 'I think he's annoyin', yeah, yeah, what a bunch of glubbing nonsense!” 

“He has good taste in scents!” Eridan defended, turning to Porrim for confirmation. “Doesn't he?” 

Porrim opened her mouth to answer, but was distracted by Meulin's face pressing into her shoulder, the girl shaking with laughter. Nepeta giggled, and asked, “Hey Fefuri, does your meowrail have some weird complex about his dancestor, too? Equius is too nervous to even TALK to Horuss, even though he's really nice!” 

“Those two could sweat enough to fill up the whole room,” Kanaya muttered while Eridan grated out, “Hey! I'm RIGHT HERE!” 

“The little ones are so silly,” Meulin attempted to whisper to Porrim, though it came out at a normal speaking tone, one hand cupped to the side of her mouth conspiratorially. Porrim pretended that she hadn't heard the first time, tilting her head closer to the Leijon until her ear nearly brushed against her lips. “I said they're SILLY!” Meulin repeated, and Porrim did her best not to cringe. Eek, maybe she wouldn't use that little maneuver again. Her friend wasn't so good with volume control. 

When Eridan knocked over a teapot and the hot liquid sloshed over Nepeta's lap, Porrim leaned away from the table in order to avoid the girl's wrath when she lunged for him. Feferi hopped out of her seat and snatched the back of her moirail's scarf, tugging him out of harm's way after Nepeta had missed the first time. 

“Looks like our pleasant little party is over,” Kanaya sighed, moving a teacup out of the way before it could get knocked over in the ensuing scuffle. 

“Nepurrta!” Meulin gasped, pulling away from Porrim in order to scurry after her dancestor. 

Porrim rose from her seat, folding Kanaya's offered arm over her elbow. “Let's take our leave, mm?” 

The jadeblood pair managed to sashay away before Equius showed up to subdue his hissing moirail's screeches of, “He BROKE MY FAFURRITE TEAPOT!” 

“It wwas tacky anywway,” Eridan grumbled from behind the safety of Feferi's voluminous hair.


	8. Seriously, fuck that guy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peaceful interlude in the public park turns into a violent scramble when Cronus decides not to take any of what Mituna dishes out.

“You're making it difficult to read my book,” Porrim teased, shifting her novel so that it was no longer resting on her moirail's face. Cronus grinned cheekily from his position with the back of his head in her lap, the span of freckles across the bridge of his prominent nose shifting as he waggled his eyebrows. “You make it difficult to get some shut eye, sittin' there lookin' all gorgeous.” He retorted, pleased with the smirk it earned him. 

They'd decided to spend the day outside, since Cronus preferred to sleep during the evenings and be about during the sunlit hours. Porrim had adjusted her more or less random schedule to fit, and now they found themselves lounging underneath the large pink and blue tree in the center community area, sunlight filtering harmlessly through its leaves. The dappling of light across the strange grass made her mind wander back to her time on Beforus, when she could escape her duties into the sun's rays when she wanted time all to herself. 

Cronus lounged, stretched out across the grass with his feet bare. He was toying with the curling ends of her hair, the strands playing between his fingers. He seemed content to just sprawl, humming absently. Porrim had brought a book she'd been intending to finish along with her, since just sitting about quietly without anything to entertain her seemed rather boring. 

“Yes, well, wouldn't want to embarrass you with looking anything less than perfect,” she drawled, gesturing outward toward the other trolls that were currently occupying the space with them. “It'd be a shame to be seen with me if I were an eyesore.” 

He chuckled, reaching up to tickle her nose with the tips of her hair. She jerked her face away with a short laugh, while he schmoozed, “Babydoll, bein' seen with you at all is a fuckin' treasure.”  
“Hahahaha! That's FUCKING SAPPY, what a loser! Tula, Tula, listen to the SHIT he's spewing hahaha!” 

Porrim and Cronus jolted in unison, Cronus hauling himself out of her lap and scrambling to his feet. Porrim simply leveled Mituna with an unamused look, one corner of her lips beginning to pull itself up in a sneer. Latula cackled, stepping off of her skateboard and flipping it up with her foot, catching it and tucking it up beneath an arm. “Yeah, I see it, 'Tuna. Looks like some super sweet bonding time over here with our newest Wonder 'Rails.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, and it set Porrim on the defensive.

Cronus edged slightly in front of Porrim, though she simply leaned to the side to continue to see around him, this time shooting an open glare at Latula. “I see the banshee and her shrieking pet have decided to join us,” she said cooly, raising a hand for Cronus to take so that he could help her stand. Her last real encounter with Latula had been rather caliginously charged and had left them both with raw feelings. It was about time some of them came to the forefront. 

Her moirail gripped her hand and, while it seemed that he hardly even twitched, the movement was enough to pull her neatly up onto her feet with little effort on her part. She leaned into his side, effectively draping herself over him, thinning her lips at the pair of matesprits that hadn't moved from their spots. 

Mituna whooped with high pitched chattering laughter, and Porrim could hear the low thrumming growl that was building in Cronus's chest. Ah, yes – her palemate wasn't much fond of him either, she recalled. Much of the flak that Cronus complained about receiving from Kankri had a lot to do with the former's treatment of the Captor, but with her own feelings towards him, Porrim couldn't find much fault with Cronus's behavior. 

Speaking of Kankri, she could see him hovering near the copse of purple bushes just on the sidelines of their blossoming drama, obviously wondering if he should intervene. She saw the kicked-barkbeast looks he was shooting Latula, and judging from the way that Cronus suddenly stiffened, he had too. 

“Hey, not our fault you decided to start getting all nasty up in our grinding grounds,” Latula laughed, the sound oddly sharp. 

“Shittiest fucking fake pale pile of shit!” Mituna agreed, standing with one foot on his board, wobbling from side to side in an attempt to stay balanced. 

“Language!” Kankri finally snapped, not able to restrain himself. Cronus's eyes darted toward him, but he stayed where he was, not willing to leave Porrim to face the others alone. 

“You sayin' that my Babydoll ain't doin' her job right?” He snarled in their direction, shark teeth bared. 

“I'm saying that your “Babydoll” (sweet petname, beeteedubs) is full of some righteous shit!” Latula fired right back, planting a hand on one curved hip. “Porrim wouldn't know pale if it danced naked right in front of her nose!” She reached out quickly and gripped Mituna by the bicep before he could topple, and he was quick to pick up where she had left off. “YEAH! Like ANYBODY would fill a fucking quadrant with a sad sack of shitforpans like you!” There was a long string of garbled nonsense after that statement that Porrim didn't even bother trying to decipher, instead being busy pondering if she should let Cronus loose on the asshole like he was obviously yearning to do. 

But, no. Latula had come to pick a fight with her specifically. Even IF she'd managed to manufacture herself a moirail that didn't mean that she needed him fighting her battles for her. She pressed a palm to his chest, shaking her head. 

“Oh, sweetie. Have you gotten bored of listening to your matesprit's deranged yelping and decided to try and get some real stimulating conversation? You could have just asked, Latula darling, you didn't need to make such a fuss.” Porrim crooned, acid dripping liberally from every word. “If you wanted some...attention...” She let the end of the sentence fall away, her intent plain, one eyebrow arched in invitation. 

“WHORE!” Mituna screeched, and that was enough for Cronus. He shifted Porrim to the side and thrust himself in front of her, one arm outstretched as if to block her from view. Latula stepped forward, teeth bared up at him, her fingers curling into fists. “Slut! Pail hopper! BITCH!” Mituna taunted, doing a strange little jittery dance. Latula ignored him for once, all her focus heavy on the sea-dweller that was facing her down, his fins spread wide and quivering in a blatant threat display. 

“You say one more fuckin' wvord about my moirail, or TO my moirail, and I'm gunna pop ya one so hard your little dancestor is gunna be able to see it comin',” he growled at the libra. “Call off yer fuckin' matesprit or I'm gunna do somethin' he'll regret.” 

“You stay the fuck away from Mituna!” Latula snapped, and Cronus leered at her, shoving himself into her space, forcing her to take a step back. Mituna had quieted for a moment, staring at Porrim as if he were thinking over some sort of difficult problem. She stared back, willing her skin to cooperate and not start giving off any light. Don't show him how much you loathe him, she thought, don't give his smug horrible self the satisfaction. After a tense half-minute of relative silence, he finally took a deep breath, and shouted, “BIIIIIITCCCCCHHHHHH! HAHAHAHAH!” 

Cronus roared, shoving Latula roughly to the side and launching himself at Mituna. The two went down in a flailing whirlwind of limbs, and Porrim hissed, breaking out into a bright glow despite herself. Latula swiped at her with an open palm, and Porrim seized her wrist, crushing it in her grip. “Piss off Pyrope,” she snarled, pushing the girl away towards Kankri who had begun rushing forward, already shouting. 

She waded into the bloody mess that was her moirail and Mituna, planting her high-heeled shoe into the yellowblood's ribs and heaving him away. “Cronus!” She snapped, patience at an absolute end. “This is below you! We're leaving, NOW.” 

He skittered to his feet, chest heaving and hair askew, a smear of yellow blood marring his white t-shirt. The visor of Mituna's helmet had shattered from the force of a punch he'd thrown, and a few of the pieces appeared to be lodged in Cronus's hand and upper arm. He allowed her to grip him by his elbow and begin to march off, shooting an absolutely murderous glare at Mituna as he was led away. 

They made their way to her hive in silence, with the exception of Cronus's low annoyed hisses of pain. Mituna had headbutted him in the abdomen and punctured the skin with his twinned horns when Cronus had leaned down to compensate for his height, and bright spots of violet were beginning to bleed through onto his shirt. Porrim stormed into her living block and pointed imperiously at her couch without a word, only ensuring that her moirail had seated himself before going to fetch her first aid kit. 

When she returned he was staring blankly up at the ceiling, carding his shard-free hand through his hair. Feeling like she was stressed enough to excuse her behavior, she took the injured hand in between her own and lapped at the smears of violet, settling herself beside him on the chaise. 

“Wvoah, babe,” he muttered, but didn't put up any resistance, face screwed up like he couldn't decide if he was weirded out or not. 

“Idiot,” she muttered, going about the business of removing the visor shards and licking up the blood that welled from the cuts. “I don't need you leaping to my defense at every turn. Latula has a problem with me and Mituna is a spectacular asshole, but I am not some maiden that you need to rescue.” 

“In fact,” she continued, feeling a rant building up. “I am more than capable of fending for myself and fielding nasty overtures. The fact that YOU, a MALE, felt the need to take care of my issues for me insinuates that you feel that I am too weak or frail to do so myself. I do not NEED that, Cronus Ampora, I could have handled that without you jumping in to save me!” 

“All you did was injure yourself and make me look like a fool!” She emphasized that final point with a sharp tug on the bandage she'd wrapped around his hand, tying off the knot. When she looked up, livid, Cronus was staring at her open-mouthed, hurt written across his face. 

“I wvasn't tryin' ta make you look like anything, kitten,” he murmured. “And I wvasn't tryin' to say that you bein' a wvoman makes you wveaker.” When she hissed, he straightened up, frowning at her. “I wvas just doin' wvhat moirails DO! That shitbag wvas callin' you nasty names an I wvasn't gunna stand for it! I ain't ashamed of doin' it and I'd do it again if I had to! Not because you're a wvoman, but because you're Porrim and I'm pale as shit for you!” 

She wanted to rage at him some more, the remnants of her fury with Mituna and Latula still hanging around her in a black fog, but she couldn't find it in herself to. She was still annoyed, however. “Really? Charging at him like a wild animal? Cronus! Adults use their words!” 

“He wvas usin' wvords and see what it got him.” The smug expression of his face told her that he really didn't feel any shame or remorse – he'd protected his moirail's honor, and that was all that was important to him. The logic of that took her by surprise and shocked a ragged kind of laugh out of her, but it very quickly capsized, her shoulders beginning to shudder. When she felt her lips twist she was horrified, and Cronus's confused, “Dollface? Wvhat are you...?” didn't help at all. 

He hauled her up into his lap before she could really start to cry, wrapping his thick arms around her and tucking her head beneath his chin, careful to mind her horns. “Wvhy you cryin'...?” 

“Because they're IDIOTS!” She flung the words out before she could force herself to stop, burying her face into Cronus's shirt and not feeling bad about potentially smearing her makeup on him. It was already ruined – she'd sew him another. The events were finally catching up with her, and she was so very, very tired of having names flung around. Her quadrants were HER business, and what she did or did not do in them, or how often she did it, was only HER concern. Mituna and other misogynistic oinkbeasts like him wanted to control her and oppress her, crush her beneath their masculine thumbs. Only PORRIM could regulate what she wanted to do, and her behavior was HERS, and she was so sick and tired and DONE with any other troll trying to tell her that how she felt was wrong. 

“It's my business,” she whispered fiercely into Cronus's neck, clawing her fingers into his t-shirt and holding on to the material like it was an anchor. “I'm a hot fling, they say. You haven't pailed until you've pailed with Porrim, they whisper. I'm an achievement, a trophy, and once you've got me you can put me up on a shelf and show me off, and then when you're done doing that you can throw me away and sic your horrid matesprit on me to shame me for the decisions you helped me make!” 

“Uh...wvhat?” Cronus mumbled intelligently. 

Her tears were warm against his skin, jade dripping into the collar of his shirt. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, shifting so that he could cross his legs underneath himself and cradle Porrim in the center. 

“I loathe Latula,” she hissed, taking in the thick scent of Cronus's cologne. It took the edge off of her humiliation. “Utterly pitch black for that horrible woman. And her matesprit, too! I hate them both. I hate the way they make me feel like the choices I've made are something to be ashamed of, when she started the whole thing to begin with. How dare she insinuate that I'm trash, the nerve of her!” 

“Wvoah,” Cronus breathed out quietly, and Porrim sniffled in response, nestling closer to her moirail. It felt...fantastic to finally get that off of her chest. She felt lighter and calmer and less wound up than she had in a long while, ever since she'd broken off her flimsy kismessitude with the libra not too long ago. It certainly felt more solid now after the day's events, which...she had partly Cronus to thank for. Hopefully Latula was weeping to Aranea right at this moment, Porrim thought with a stab of vindictiveness, or maybe Mituna, though he'd probably already forgotten about the incident, or had begun falling all over himself apologizing as soon as she'd left, Cronus in tow. 

They'd probably fling even more shit in her face for being black for the both of them, but that just fueled her ire. 

“...thank you for punching him in his awful face,” she said after a long while. “I'd wish that you had done it harder, but then I would have had an even bigger mess to clean up.” 

Cronus laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, right between her horns. Porrim nearly purred. “Anytime, Babydoll. Seriously. Fuck that guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus! A doodle I did for this chapter:


	9. PURRIM!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meulin drops in for a visit and a quick favor, bringing news of a no doubt perfectly planned Peixes party that will call for ruffly dresses! H33h33!

“PURRIM! Purrim! Hey!” 

Porrim looked up from her novel, fingers clenching along the sides where she held it in surprise. The force of Meulin's knocks were rattling her door in its frame. She stashed the book behind a squashy throw pillow, knowing that if one just looked at its cover it would look like some kind of trashy pailing jamboree rag. It had much more depth than that, of course, but few would look past the cover to see its merits. 

She opened her door quickly before Meulin could barrage the poor thing anymore, granting the girl on the other side of her threshold a curious smile. “Evening, Ms. Meulin. Can I...help you with something?” 

It was a bit odd to see the leo without Horuss hovering somewhere behind her, a trait that both pairs of Leijon+Zahhak moirails seemed to share. Meulin steepled her two index fingers together in front of her chest, fluttering her eyelashes up at Porrim. “Well, Horuss accidentally ripped one of my fafurrite skirts when we were practicing our dancing for the party that Fefuri's throwing later this week, and I was hoping that you could help me make a new one!” She swayed side to side slightly, just enough to make her skirt swirl idly around her lower thighs. Porrim eyed the shifting hem for a moment before she caught herself, stepping back to allow Meulin into her hive. 

“You made that supurr neat jacket for Cronus, and that nice soft sweater for Kankri! I want pretty Purrim clothes, too!” Meulin gushed as she flounced in, head turning from side to side as she took in the interior decorating that Porrim had prided herself on. 

“The younger Peixes is hosting a party?” Porrim asked, settling back down onto her chaise. Meulin bounced over to her and took a seat without needing to be coaxed, nodding. “Mmhm! She asked me to tell you all about it, so, that was the second reason I came rushing over!”

“OH! Purrim! Maybe we could MATCH! Wouldn't that be just supurr cute?” The olive blood giggled, picking up one of the throw pillows and squishing it in her lap, poking at it curiously. 

“Match?” Porrim parroted, lips curling into a grin. Goodness, this girl was adorable. 

“Well, YEAH! See, I was hoping, and Horuss said it would be a good idea to ask,” Meulin fidgeted, the toes of her mary-janes bumping together. “I was hoping that you could be my date! We'd be the prettiest kitties at the ball!” 

Porrim felt her eyebrows jerk upward in shock, eyes widening and lips popping open into a surprised 'o'. “You were so sweet to me at the tea purrty, and I always thought you were really cool and purrety!” The other young woman continued, tucking strands of wild hair behind her ears. “What do you think, Purrim?” 

She couldn't respond quickly enough, and to her horror, almost tripped over her words in her eagerness. “I-...I think that's a fabulous idea! Of course I'll be your date, darling.” Meulin squealed happily, tipping forward to wrap her arms around Porrim in a tight hug, practically climbing into her lap. “YAAAY! We should purrlan our dresses! Do you like ruffles?!” 

Porrim shooed her off of her lap and pointed out another room off to the side that appeared to be mostly swathed with fabrics. “Ruffles have their times and places. Let's go to my studio so I can show you some things I've been working on.” 

Once the pair had relocated, Porrim set to work hauling out the dress forms she'd hidden under piles of fabric and stacks of messy sketch books. Half-finished old projects were pulled out of the closet and draped over the desk and the backs of chairs for Meulin's perusal, and Porrim busied herself flipping through the pages of forgotten sketch books for design inspiration. 

“Fefuri wanted to have a party beclaws she says that doing nothing all day is boring! So she's inviting everybody fur dancing and music and cake!” Meulin chattered, holding up a mesh-looking crop top and wiggling it to see the sequins on it catch the light. “She's quite the socialite,” Porrim observed, nicking a hair elastic out of an open drawer and pulling her massive amounts of hair up into a messy bun, tired of it hanging in her eyes while she was trying to look for things. 

“If we're all gunna be dead might as well party,” Meulin philosophized with a shrug, dropping the top she was holding and moving on to investigate what seemed to be a heap of sweaters and shawl-like scarves. She flopped down into the pile of fabric, giggling when a stray pom-pom went flying. At some point in time she'd toed off her shoes, and when Porrim bustled past her she poked at the other troll's bottom with her stockinged toes. 

“Miss Leijon! Are you getting fresh with me?” Porrim propped her hands on her hips, adopting a mock-stern expression that was somewhat ruined by the colorful striped pashmina she had draped over her shoulders.

“Maaaybe,” Meulin sing-songed, batting her eyes and dissolving into giggles when Porrim found the launched pom pom and tossed it at her. “So what if I am! You're cute, I'm cute, let's be cute togefur.” 

Porrim tossed her hands in the air with an easy laugh, chiming, “How could I possibly resist a line like that? Miss Meulin, you're not giving me any choice! I'm falling for your innocent charms faster by the minute.” 

The troll snuggled into the pile of discarded clothes smirked almost mischievously, purring, “Good.” 

In the end they decided that they didn't need to match after all. They had distinctly different personal preferences when it came to style, and Meulin trotted home with an old project that Porrim had started on, gotten frustrated with when she'd almost finished, and then stuffed into a closet. It hadn't taken long to resurrect and recover, though she was beseeched to add an extra line of ruffles to the hem that hadn't been there before. 

Meulin had bid her goodbye with a giggle and a smooch to her cheek, waving farewell almost spastically until she was out of sight. Porrim sank onto her chaise with a happy sigh, wondering if Cronus knew about Feferi's party. She'd have to whip something up for him as well, undoubtedly. She didn't trust him to have an adequate wardrobe, something that she was going to have to rectify over time. 

She fished her novel out from behind the pillow from earlier, wriggling about to get comfortable again.


	10. Lightweight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cronus's wayward imagination supplies him with ample entertainment, until later when it gets him into an awkward spot. Cronus is just simply no fun at parties, and neither is Kankri.

He shoved his fingers in that gorgeous mouth, pressing down on a tongue that had been wagging incessantly. He felt it seize and tense as its owner coughed, and wrapped his free hand around the back of the head that beautiful mouth belonged to, taking hold of tufts of dark hair. 

“This is just one wvay that I can shut you up,” he rumbled, “And maybe the only one you wvon't like, chief.” 

He removed his fingers only to replace them with his tongue, plundering like it was his hatchright. That smaller, pliant body fitted against him without resistance, and he chirred encouragingly in his throat, reaching down to hitch one of Kankri's legs up so that he could sling it about his hip. His mate's keening whine only fueled the jutting grind of his pelvis, and he felt so impassioned that he lifted Kankri from the ground entirely, wrapping his remaining leg about his waist and pressing forward against the wall that the shorter troll had been leaning against. 

He suckled kisses down the flushed column of Kankri's neck, nipping affectionately at a raised collarbone and savoring the fevered gasp it solicited. He worked a hand under that baggy, too-large sweater, marveling at the boiling heat that his matesprit gave off, feeling like he was going to melt against him with every touch. 

“Flushed for you,” he panted out between kisses, a thin string of saliva bridging their mouths. Kankri sighed, eyelids fluttering and his swollen lips curving into a warm smile. “Flushed for you, too, Cronus.” 

“Cronus? Cronus!” 

He was shaken out of his daydreaming, registering the perfumy haze of flowers that he identified as his moirail. He shifted in the pile they'd been cocooned in, digging a gemstoned ring out from under his ribcage. 

“...wvhat? Wvhaddaya need, Babydoll?” He turned his head in order to be able to see her better, arching an eyebrow when he noted that she'd changed up her usual makeup. She'd been bustling about and getting ready, and “just five more minutes, darling” had been the last thirty. He'd taken to daydreaming in order to amuse himself, knowing better than to interrupt Porrim while she was primping. 

“The pumps with the buckles or the stilettos with the glittery heels?” Porrim prompted, holding up one shoe from each pair and wiggling them about slightly, impatiently waiting for his opinion. 

“Fuck if I know, doll,” he grunted, “Wvhatever is easier to dance in. Ain't like the kitten's gunna be lookin' at yer feet anywvays.” 

“So practical,” she sniffed, then elected for a different pair of heels entirely, earning a roll of her moirail's eyes. Why'd she even bother asking him if she was just going to choose something else. He'd never get the hang of this whole fashion thing.

Porrim had dressed him like he was some kind of life-sized doll, cooing over his hair and wheedling him to try and cave in to the piercing she wanted to try on him. His body was still intact and missing any extra holes, but he didn't think he'd be able to evade her for much longer. When she got that half-crazed glint in her eyes he knew his time was running out. 

He was dateless, per fuckin' usual, but at least his moirail had spiffed him up something special. Feferi had requested that everybody get all trussed up for her shindig, since she wanted to see everyone looking their best for once instead of covered in blood or who knew what else. It seemed like just about everybody had decided to play along, wary of angering Meenah, who was fond of the idea herself. 

His pants were tight and his shirt and blazer combo were cut to show off his most attractive angles. Porrim had talked him into a clip-on earring, so a golden stud gleamed from one ear-fin, nestled into one of the lowest folds. He kind of liked it, but was going to hold off on telling her that until she needled it out of him. 

When his lovely lady number 1 finally swept herself into the room with an expression that meant she was ready to be admired, he sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, grinning at her. 

Sleek black fabric with a dull kind of shine wrapped around her from chest to mid-thigh, pulled all together in a kind of texture that Cronus had learned was called 'ruching'. The bodice was heart-shaped and clung like a lover to her bosom, and she turned in an effortless circle on her ridiculous spiky heels, little black bows peeping at him from their backs. She'd draped a sheer jade shawl around herself, and he noticed that it was subtly striped with soft black. 

“If wve wveren't already goin' steady I'd pop the question right this second,” he told her, content to see her preen. “I bet Meulin is gunna be outta her mind all night tryin' ta keep her hands off ya.” 

“That is the intention behind this ensemble, so we should hope so,” Porrim breezed, dropping him a practice sultry wink. He got to his feet and ambled toward the front door, easing it open and offering Porrim his arm. “Out wve go, yeah?” 

They were among the last to arrive, per Porrim's insistence that they go back so that Cronus could change his socks. How was he supposed to know that white socks with black slacks were a no-go? Fashion continued to not make any sense at all. He hovered near the punch bowl and watched his moirail from afar, grinning to himself as Meulin in her blue ruffly dress pounce-hugged her date. 

“It has been a while, Cronus,” came from the vicinity of his bicep, and he glanced down, unsurprised to see Kankri in his typical red sweater. The only concession to vanity that he had seemed to make was wearing a collared shirt underneath it, the shirt cuffs sticking out at his wrists strangely, twisted around as he pushed up the loose sleeves of the sweater. 

“'Eyy, Chief. Diggin' the cuffs there.” It was the closest thing to a compliment on his physical appearance that Kankri would accept, but was perhaps exactly the wrong thing to say. 

“Yes, well, I find them uncomfortably reminiscent of the irons that my other universe counterpart was forced to wear as part of his torture and execution, so I am regretting the decision. (Trigger warning, torture, death, swearing.)” 

Cronus held back a snort, grimacing awkwardly. Welp, the conversation was already tanked and he'd only gotten one sentence out. “Wvell...sorry.” Kankri looked at him askance, sighed, and seemed to forcefully lower the defensive set of his shoulders, responding with, “There's really nothing for you to be sorry about, Cronus. You personally had nothing to do with the whole debacle.” 

He nodded, accepting the truth of that. “You plannin' on doin' any dancin' at this shindig, Kan? I think I see louder Vwantas over there tryin' to groovwe.”

Kankri finished ladling out punch into his plastic cup before he deigned to respond, looking over his shoulder at where Karkat was shifting around awkwardly while Terezi jabbed at him and cackled. “No, I do not think so. I have only made an appearance because I did not wish to offend the younger Ms. Peixes, and will soon retire to my hive for a quiet night of reading.” 

The shorter troll took a sip of his drink, looked at it strangely, and then seemed to shrug it off, whatever flavor it was unfamiliar to him. Cronus cast a critical look at the communal punch bowl, seeming to recall that Vriska had been hovering around it earlier, looking shady. 

“Might not wvant ta drink too much of that,” he said quietly, trying not to draw any attention. Not that anybody was looking at him anyway. Porrim was over there stealing the show with Meulin, lowering the giggling Leo into a graceful dip. Man, he'd really lucked out with that one. 

“I will do what I like, thank you very much, Cronus,” Kankri informed him. “Your concern is appreciated but unnecessary.” He shrugged – wasn't his business anyway, he guessed. 

Three cups of punch later and Cronus was shifting nervously while an obviously inebriated Kankri leaned against him, mumbling something about the hemocaste and how many empresses society would go through in the lifespan of one sea-dweller if it were reversed. “Just think about it,” he urged Cronus, tugging on his lapels insistently. “Damara as the heiress, instead of Meenah. Think about how different that would have been.” 

“I don't think I wvant to, they're both shithive maggots,” Cronus muttered back, doing his best to not look like he was doing anything shifty. He was really just minding his own business, watching his moirail dance and taking in all the general festiveness of the occasion, and Kankri Vantas was leaning on him and going on some kind of drunken tangent about 'Her Imperial Eccentricness'. Porrim had flashed him a wink and a thumbs up, but he'd just shook his head, trying to convey that he was uncomfortable.

Nobody was coming to his rescue. 

His daydream from earlier floated back to the forefront of his mind when Kankri peered up at him, cheeks flushed and mouth slack in a drunken smile, and he cringed, trying to move away from the other troll. Maybe he'd ask Nepeta to dance, she seemed like a swell doll, that was a good plan, she was just stepping on Eridan's feet on purpose anyway, he wouldn't be interrupting anything - 

“Where are you going, Cro-...Cronus?” Kankri demanded, tugging sharply on his blazer's lapels. He paused, blinked, then said, “I like your earring. I like it a lot.” 

Maybe he'd let Porrim pierce him after all. Damn. 

“Uh, let's get you home, chief,” he stammered out after a moment, ushering Kankri out of the door of Feferi's strange underwater dreamworld hive, still weirded out by how the sea scape swiftly morphed into the suburban lawn ring of some other troll's memories. 

“A nap does sound appropriately refreshing,” Kankri babbled, trailing after Cronus like it was something he did daily. The walk to Kankri's hive was an incredibly awkward one for Cronus, who was wondering what he was being punished for. Yeah, he daydreamed about Kankri in a sexual way far more often than he probably should, but he'd never made a move! He respected his friend's wishes (or had come to eventually, anyway) and kept their interactions on a strictly friendly, platonic level, and his reward for that was some more jumbled sentences about how his blazer stretched across his shoulder blades nicely and his earring was daring and his hair looked touchable. 

“Kan, get to bed,” he grunted out when he reached the troll's hive, pushing the front door open and steering Kankri through it. “Or not. Just...stay in there. Kay? Don't talk to nobody else tonight. Read a book, take a nap, watch one a yer documentaries, just...just keep to yerself. Promise?” 

“I can do that,” Kankri nodded amiably, already toddling over to his rather plain sofa and performing a truly fantastic belly flop onto it, laying bonelessly and sinking into the cushions. 

“Kay. Uh, goodnight, chief. I'm goin' back.” 

“Goodnight, Cronus,” Kankri muttered, already half asleep with his face in a scratchy throw pillow decorated with a crab motif. 

Instead of going back to the party, Cronus found himself in his own hive, curled up in his own bed, and hating the fact that he was a better troll now than he used to be for the rest of the evening.


	11. (=^•ω•^=)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porrim's evening post-party goes far better than Cronus's.

“You don't have to worry about Purrloz, you know,” Meulin made an attempt at subtlety, but from the way that she was currently nestling her head against Porrim's shoulder, it missed the mark. She traced a careful claw along the swirling ink on Porrim's arm, slowly working her way down to the wrist. 

Porrim frowned in confusion, shifting so that she could be face to face with Meulin instead of side by side. The other troll's hive didn't have much in the way of furniture in its living block, hosting only a low to the ground table and a healthy smattering of squishy cushions on the floor. A book shelf full of what appeared to be personal journals mixed in with movies and colorful knick knacks took up most of one wall, picture frames placed here and there, their occupants smiling at her with their fanged grins. 

When her gaze settled on one of a younger Meulin and Kurloz, she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched. 

“What do you mean?” She eventually asked, as Meulin didn't seem like she was going to volunteer any more information without further prompting. When her cheeks flushed bright olive and she scratched nervously at the side of her nose, Porrim thought that she probably had her answer. 

“We haven't been matespurrits for a long time. We're just good furriends now, so you don't have to worry about him being upset if you decided to...well...” 

She twisted her hands together nervously, peering up at Porrim from under her eyelashes. “I have a little flush crush on you, Purrim, I bet you already knew, though. I get all silly and giggly when you're around, and you've been supurr sweet and the dance was so much fun! I wanted to kiss you the whole time but you're such a purrfect dancer that I didn't want to stop!” 

Porrim felt a flush creeping up her own cheeks, and she scooted closer to Meulin, reaching out to take one of the fidgeting hands in her own. “Keep talking,” she said quietly, and Meulin edged forward until they knelt knees to knees, her usually booming voice hushed into a shy whisper that set Porrim's bloodpusher into palpitations. 

“I think you're so burrave, loving or hating anybody that you want and not caring what anybody says or thinks about you. And you're always so purrety, like you stepped out of a magazine or a movie. And you're so sweet! You're giving Ampurra a chance when nobody else wanted to, and I think that's really wonderful. I think you're going to make him a way better troll, and you've been so much happier since you've gotten a meowrail! It's like you glow!” 

Meulin paused, second-thinking what she'd just said, and then giggled when Porrim flickered teasingly. 

“Meulin, you're possibly the sweetest troll I've ever met,” Porrim managed after a moment, nearly breathless from all the earnest praise. “I've really been enjoying your company the past few weeks, and I'm regretting not getting to know you better sooner. We've have eons in these damned bubbles to spend time with one another but somehow it just never worked out that way.” 

“Well, I spent a long time just by myself,” Meulin admitted. “I was purrety upset with Meenah fur what she did, and didn't want anyone to see me angry. And then you were always with someone, so I was scared I'd never get the chance to tell you all this!” 

Porrim wasn't quite sure how to take that, but Meulin had grasped her other hand, lacing their fingers. “Ampurra is good fur you, and I want to be good fur you, too!” 

Well. If that wasn't perhaps the cutest, most brazen red solicitation that she'd ever heard. Her smile was threatening to crack her face, and Meulin was leaning forward, rubbing their noses together as she purred. Porrim's eyes flickered down to their joined hands and braced knees, and felt like she might burst. 

She couldn't bring herself to care that she was glowing brightly, illuminating the dark corners of the room. Meulin hummed and sighed happily, eyes fluttering shut as she rubbed her cheek along Porrim's jawline. “Purrim? Are you going to say anything?” 

Her tone was gently teasing, as if she knew exactly what Porrim was going to say. “Cheeky little thing,” she admonished, breathing out a pleased 'mmm' when Meulin finally kissed her. 

For all of her previous shyness, confirmation of her feelings had emboldened the Heart player. Had Meulin ever reached God Tier Porrim would playfully accuse her of using her abilities as a Mage to lay a spell on her, but as it was she had no one to blame but herself. 

“Purrim, you wanna be my matespurrit? I'll cuddle you and we can play lots of games and read ALL the romance novels that I know you like together, and we can lay around and ship all our furriends!” 

That sounded highly intriguing, and she nodded, not having enough to time to say anything before Meulin pushed forward, peppering her with more sweet kisses. “PAWESOME! I can't wait to tell Horuss, he was crazier than a bag of purrbeasts when he saw us at the dance!” 

Not sure if that potentially spelled catastrophe or not, Porrim settled for another kiss, winding her fingers through Meulin's wild hair. She'd had no idea that this precious troll had been harboring flushed feelings for her for so long, otherwise she may have acted sooner. Meulin was adorable in every sense of the word – everything she did was hopelessly endearing, and she was an irresistible amount of cute, from the top of her purrbeast-like horns to the very bottom of her stockinged toes. She shifted her knees obligingly when Meulin wriggled against her so that she could slip between them, hands breaking their hold in order to knead them into Porrim's shoulders. 

Smirking against Meulin's lips, Porrim fell back against the large pillow she'd been kneeling on, pulling her girl with her. Cascades of hair fell around the sides of their faces, creating a thick curtain that shone with an olive sheen in the illumination from Porrim's face and throat. Meulin giggled breathlessly into the kiss, accidentally nicking Porrim's lower lip with a fang, and surprised the Virgo when she lapped up the beads of jade blood that followed, utterly un-self conscious. 

“You're a surprise at every turn,” Porrim crooned, sighing softly when Meulin dragged a bloody kiss down the side of her jaw. “And you taste as good as you smell,” Meulin purred, taking the time to lick inquisitively along the shell of Porrim's ear. She shivered, her hands roaming to palm Meulin's hips, rubbing and kneading until she'd gotten to where she wanted, fingers spreading so that she could get a firm grasp on that exquisite ass. 

Meulin squeaked in surprise, then gave a throaty purr, nipping sharply at Porrim's earlobe. 

It was fantastic, and dizzyingly flushed, but Porrim had to pull away, pressing an apologetic kiss to Meulin's forehead. “I'm sorry,” she murmured, caressing the girl's shoulders. “But I have a torrid history of rushing into things immediately, and that's something I want to work on. You're simply too sweet to ruin, darling.” 

The other troll whimpered, her lower lip rolling down in an impressive pout. “If you say so, Purrim,” she all but groaned, sneaking another kiss before pulling herself to her feet, reaching a hand down to help Porrim up as well. 

She accepted it with grace, unfolding to her feet and promptly pressing herself flush against her newly minted matesprit, coaxing without much difficulty one more kiss. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she murmured, knowing that the volume didn't matter – she could have shouted it and Meulin still wouldn't have heard. The Leo nodded, nuzzled her head beneath Porrim's chin, and then bade her goodbye, giving her a sneaky pinch on the rump as she turned to go.


	12. Someone's feeling Kranki/And That's a Wvrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kankri finally tracks Cronus down after he's been avoiding him for the past few days, locked and loaded and ready to have some WORDS.

Cronus pondered over how he'd gotten himself into this situation, staring very carefully off somewhere into the distance, purposefully not making eye contact with the troll that was drilling holes in him with his gaze. 

Kankri cleared his throat, the third time he'd done so, and despite the way his closest fin twitched in response he continued to pretend that he hadn't heard. He wasn't sure what Kankri thought had happened the night of the party, but Cronus had managed to evade him for at least four days, which was no easy or simple feat. He knew where the Cancer liked to spend his time and had avoided those spots with fervor, but it had been hard to pretend he hadn't been home when his friend had come knocking on his door. 

“Cronus, you are being terribly rude.” 

His eyes slid slowly in order to see Kankri out of his peripherals, the rest of his face following when he heard the other troll's frustrated snort. “I'm sorry?” He tried, tilted his head to one side and making an attempt to disarm Kankri with a grin. 

It didn't work. 

“I want to know why you have been purposefully avoiding me! That kind of behavior is very hurtful, unless you meant it as some kind of nonverbal communication that you needed to be alone, in which case, I apologize for missing your cues, but at the same time I highly doubt that!” 

Kankri's chest heaved with repressed anger, and Cronus watched his facial muscles tic with some interest. He'd seen Kankri worked up into a froth before, spouting sermons like he was some kind of gun that ran on clips of justice, but his face now was completely different. It was contorted into some attempt at polite chagrin, but fury shone through anyway, his fingers clenched on his biceps from where his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. He allowed himself approximately one short moment to appreciate the long slender lines and immaculate claws before he wrenched his attention to Kankri's face again, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Ah, wvell,” he mumbled, subconsciously searching out Porrim where she sat not too far away, sharing a large blanket with Meulin and watching him intently. Meulin was watching as well, snuggled up to her matesprit's side and no doubt holding back a squeal with one of her hands. 

“Maybe that's a convwersation wve shouldn't havwe in public, Kan,” he managed, hauling himself to his feet. Kankri glared up at him, somehow still managing to make Cronus feel incredibly small. “I...uh...don't really wvant anybody else to ovwerhear.” 

That seemed to soften some of the murderous intent that was radiating from the smaller troll, and he nodded his acceptance, gesturing with one hand for Cronus to lead the way. His own hive was closest to where he'd been found, a bit off the beaten path. He'd figured that the presence of Porrim and Meulin would help curb some of the inevitable fury that Kankri was going to lob his way once he finally ferreted him out, and perhaps that had helped at least a little, but now he was purposefully walking away from his umbrella of safety and wasn't sure how he felt about it. Kankri followed close behind him, almost directly on his heels, a silent threat that he wasn't going to let Cronus out of his sight until he'd had his words (probably many many of them) with him. 

When they finally inched into his living room after perhaps the longest, most awkward life of Cronus's afterlife, Kankri himself shut the front door, squaring himself in front of it and leveling Cronus with a glare that he definitely didn't feel like he deserved. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Cronus Ampora. For ignoring and avoiding me for four days, which is not only hurtful but also incredibly rude and selfish, and also for the events of Ms. Peixes' party!” 

Cronus didn't even get to think about opening his mouth before Kankri continued. 

“I will admit that I do not remember much, which is puzzling and troubling because I have an excellent memory, and it is an uncomfortable feeling to not be able to recall in detail everything that has happened to my person. But I do know that you brought me back to my hive, and then absolutely nothing after that. What is your excuse for that?” 

Stupidly, Cronus bumbled out, “Wvell I'm not your moirail, Kan.” 

“I am well aware of your affections for Porrim and I fail to see how that keeps you from acting on your affections for m-” 

Kankri's sentence came screeching to a halt at least two minutes too early, his face blossoming a brilliant bright red, mouth still open in silent shock. Cronus felt that he probably looked much the same, though perhaps with a much heavier dollop of pure disbelief. “....wvhat?” 

Kankri refused to speak, something that Cronus could only recall ever happening once in their lengthy acquaintance. His mouth had clicked shut, and he was eying Cronus warily, though he still looked murderous. 

“Kankri, you wvere drunk! I got you outta that party so you wvouldn't embarrass yourself, and the wvhole wvalk home you kept giving me all these wveird compliments! I got you home and you fell asleep on your couch. I don't understand wvhy're you're mad at me for that!” 

“If that's all that happened, why have you been avoiding me?” Kankri snapped, apparently having retrieved his voice from wherever it had scrambled off to. “That just makes you look incredibly guilty!” 

“That's all that happened, I swvear! Do you really think I'd try anything wvith you like that? That's really shitty!” 

Did the other trolls seriously think that Cronus was the type to mess with somebody when they were out of it? Drunk, or asleep, or otherwise impaired? If he ever even suggested that he'd thought of something like that Porrim would rip into him with her chainsaw. 

He did have to admit to himself though that, perhaps after they'd been freshly popped into these bubbles, something like that may have seemed like a prime opportunity to finally get some action from those had had refused him previously. Being in such close proximity to all of his peers at once had been an exercise in socialization, one that he'd failed miserably. 

But now? Never. He'd been taught some important lessons in decency and respect, many by the furious troll in front of him. 

“I knowv howv you feel about touching and quadrants and shit, Kan, wvhy wvould I EVWER do something to ya when you're too out of control to say wvhat you wvant?” 

Kankri squinted at him, his sneer slowly fading. “Porrim really has been good for you, I see.” 

“Yeah, she has. She's great. Now you'd better fuckin' explain wvhat you thought I did that got you so pissed.” Cronus had run out of patience, the slow creeping anger of being accused of FORCING himself on a troll he respected and nourished a slowly bleeding flushcrush on finally taking him over. 

He leered forward, glaring down his nose at the troll that now shrunk back against the door, arms still crossed defensively over his chest. Kankri stared at the floor, refusing to meet Cronus's eyes, and spat out some words so quietly that they could barely be heard, let alone understood. They seemed bitter from the ugly twist of Kankri's lips as he said them, the angry slant of his eyebrows. 

“Didn't quite hear that, chief,” Cronus grunted, “Gunna havwe to say it again.” 

“I thought,” Kankri hissed, an angry warning click whirring in his throat. “That you had taken advantage of me and then left me alone in hopes that I would forget it had happened! I didn't want to believe that you would do that to me, but when you avoided me for days I didn't know what else to think!” 

“The FUCK wvould I do that for?!” Cronus nearly roared, while Kankri chastised “LANGUAGE!” 

Cronus spun away from him, stalking further into his hive with his hands carding through his hair in frustration. Kankri was after him in half a second, huffing loudly through his teeth in an attempt to calm himself down. It wasn't working, and was really, really getting on Cronus's nerves. 

“I can't fuckin' believwe you thought I'd do that to you. To ANYBODY. Is that REALLY wvhat you think of me? I try so fuckin' hard to be a good guy and treat you nice and smile at evwerybody evwen wvhen they're all bein' shit to me and I KNOWV wvhat they say about me wvhen I'm not there!” 

He spun and pointed an accusatory finger at Kankri, absolutely blown out of the water when he swatted it away from his face. “It's not my fault that you have a reputation Cronus! I felt horrible enough having divulged certain highly personal opinions to you while I was under the influence, and then to wake thinking that you had left me all alone after taking what you've wanted all these sweeps! I'm not an IDIOT, Cronus!” 

“Ableist language,” Cronus sneered, highly gratified when Kankri's face drew itself into a tight mask of outrage. He'd been caught in his own trap, and sputtered, claws clenching and flexing like he wanting nothing more than to sink them into the other troll. 

“And REALLY? You liking my fucking earring and the wvay my shirt fit amounts to 'highly personal opinions'? Oh, Kankri, I'm swvoonin' ovwer here.” 

He snarled, baring all his teeth at the shorter troll, drawling out, “You're givin' me the red vwapors, chief.” 

“YOU'RE A MESS,” Kankri hollered, “AND I CAN'T HELP BUT PITY YOU!” 

His surge of viciousness left him so quickly it felt as if it had physically been drained from his body, and he collapsed backward onto his couch, limp. That didn't stop Kankri, who drifted toward him, chest heaving. 

“At every turn I thought you were irredeemable, like all my words were falling on ears deafer then even Ms. Leijon's, and I could talk circles and preach all I wanted, but you were only paying attention to me because you WANTED something,” 

Cronus winced. That was how it had started, certainly. 

“But you started changing. You started cleaning up your act even before Porrim decided to notice you. Your harassment was a mockery of what it been before, like you didn't even enjoy it anymore, and you always seemed so confused, and so lonely, but just stopped really trying to reach out. You accepted the way I felt and respected all of my boundaries and never once complained.” 

Kankri took a shuddering breath, pressing a palm to his chest. 

“I hated myself for being such a hypocrite when I realized how I had started to warm to you, start to see you differently. My thoughts weighed on you unevenly, I looked at you more often. I could tell that I was more fond of you than I was anyone else, and that terrified me. When you first began courting Porrim I was nearly sick with anxiety that it would be flushed, and WAS sick with relief and disgust with myself when I found out it was pale.” 

“Even the way you handled the situation with Latula and Mituna caught my attention differently that it had before. I saw her...being unfairly aggressive and rude and all you did was try to defend your moirail. I will admit that your physical altercation with Mr. Captor was uncalled for, but...I could not ignore the fact that I was impressed with your fortitude.” 

Cronus wasn't missing the flush that had crept up Kankri's face, but he couldn't seem to process anything else, staring at him slack-jawed with awe and dawning realization.

“So I had finally accepted how I knew I felt, and that I was absolutely not going to do anything about it. But you've...you're becoming what I always knew you could be, if you had just listened to me, or anyone who cared about you and wanted you to be happy!” 

Kankri's nose screwed up and he curled his fingers into fists, holding them tightly at his sides. 

“So when I thought that you had taken advantage of me and were avoiding me because you'd finally gotten what you wanted, I...I'm...I got so angry.” 

All the steam seemed to go out of him, and he slumped, staring at the coffee table and swallowing heavily. “But I see that...that is not the case.” 

Cronus felt the moments tick by, and Kankri continued to look at his table like it contained all the answers to every question in the universe, not leaving but definitely no longer engaging Cronus. He cleared his throat and trilled somewhat nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt. That...had been as good as a flushed confession from Kankri, and he had no idea what to do with it. Because it was still Kankri, and he'd also admitted that he'd intended not to do anything about his feelings, which Cronus could understand – vows and all – but it still felt incredibly unfair to know that his affections were returned and it meant absolutely nothing would change. 

He knew he'd be in some shit if he voiced that at the moment, though. 

“Yeah, it's not,” he said after another incredibly awkward stretch of silence, jumping slightly when Kankri looked up and pinned him with his gaze. The Cancer took a few hesitant steps forward, and then perched himself on the couch beside Cronus, hands folded primly in his lap. 

“It made me think, seeing your progress,” he said quietly, and Cronus nodded, still feeling pretty confused and raw. “That if you could change so drastically, just because you wanted to, that perhaps I had to power to...change aspects of myself that I may not be so fond of. I lack a moirail but do not find that to be much of a hindrance, as Rufioh has been very kind and very helpful whenever I feel inclined to voice my troubles.” 

Well, that was a development Cronus felt somewhat blindsided by. But, whatever, it didn't have anything to do with him.

Yet. 

Kankri took another deep breath. “I will tell you a secret, Cronus, in an attempt to repair the trust I thought had been violated. A large reason behind my vows of quadrant celibacy was that I was deeply afraid to favor one troll over another, out of terror that I would not be accepted were I to voice my feelings.”  
Cronus's mind reeled so sharply that he had to lean it back against the high arching cushion of the couch, a short surprised breath huffing out of his nose. What...? Kankri had been? Afraid of rejection? 

Well, shit, that was something he knew all about. 

“I'd...nevwer reject you, Kan,” he mumbled, starting to feel kind of jittery with blossoming excitement. 

“I know that, Cronus,” Kankri said, not unkindly. “But for the longest time I didn't feel that you would be an able or appropriate or even desirable partner, because you wouldn't reject anyone.”

He couldn't be too offended by that. For a long time it had been true. 

Cronus waved his hand kind of limply, signifying that he wasn't annoyed or hurt by the statement, and Kankri continued. “But...I can see that is no longer the case. I've been aware of your feelings for me for a good while, and when I realized that they were genuine I was flattered. But I never felt safe in admitting that they were returned until you ushered me safely back to my hive and did the respectable thing, like I...had believed that you hadn't.” 

“And for that, Cronus, I am deeply sorry.” 

“So...wvhat now, Kan...?” He tried to hide the hope that was probably shining bright and raw in his eyes and out of his face, but Kankri smiled shyly, reaching forward and resting a timid hand on Cronus's shoulder. The heat of his touch burned right though the material of his shirt and it felt like a brand on his skin. Cronus couldn't find it in himself to care, breathless with anticipation. 

“I want to be brave enough to try, Cronus, but that is all I can promise. You will have...to be patient with me. It will be very slow going at every stage until I am comfortable. But...yes, I want to try. I know that I can make the effort, if you still want to.”

This was probably the best ending that could have come of the way the conversation had started, and Cronus heaved a deeply relieved sigh, sagging into the couch's absurdly comfortable cushions and laughing weakly. “You really knowv howv to scare a guy, Kan. Of COURSE I still wvant to!” 

“Then it is settled,” Kankri said, holding himself stiffly but still smiling as serenely as he could manage. “I have much to talk to Rufioh about.” 

Cronus withheld comment. He wasn't going to push his luck. (His crazy, amazing, fantastic luck.) 

\---

He pressed a finger to the hickey that blossomed on Porrim's pale neck, snickering when she batted it away. “That hurts, you jackass,” she snipped, her sharp grin taking the sting from the words. “Just takin' some joy in your accomplishments, Babydoll,” he chuckled quietly, full on laughing when she flicked him in the forehead. 

“Just because after one sweep of being in the most painfully awkward and assbackwards slow matespritship I've ever seen and you've only progressed to holding hands in public doesn't mean you get to poke at my lovebites,” she informed him like it was some kind of law, and he supposed that if Porrim was going to be so emphatic about it, it might as well be. Sign it, stamp it, send it to the drones, it was official. 

“You're so swveet wvhen wve're in the pile,” Cronus mock-whined, just for the kiss she pressed to his cheek, her lipstick smearing jade across his skin. 

“I feel like I owve it all to you, babycakes,” he said after a moment, listening to Porrim's contented purr when he scratched idly at her scalp. “You cleaned me up good and made me a troll wvorth lookin' at. Taught me howv to not be such a damn jackass. You savwed me from Kan's wvrath wvhen I said the stupidest shit in our fights. Fuck, wvho knewv matesprits could use an auspistice.” 

“I owed you for finally goading Latula into a legitimate kismessitude with me,” Porrim sighed, “And getting Mituna off my back. Oh, and let's not forget holding Horuss off when he found Meulin and I in the lake that one time. Or in the tree that other time. And in his hive four days ago.” 

“I'm pretty sure that time you got found on purpose,” he muttered, amused when she snickered out, “It was Meulin's idea.” 

He pulled her to him, nosing the hair between her horns and taking in her comforting scent, slouching bonelessly against her. “Pale as pale as pale for you, Babydoll,” he sighed, and Porrim hummed her agreement, dropping a light kiss on his collarbone. “Best decision I've ever made, love. Play a song for me? I'm nodding off.” 

He disentangled himself from his moirail to reach for his guitar, slinging it across his lap and playfully poking Porrim in the ribs with the end. 

“I'vwe got a girl and she's swveet as can be, 

I'vwe got a girl and she's the only one for me. 

She's my wvhole wvorld and a moon or three, 

Yeah, yeah, my Babydoll's the only one for meeeee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnd that's a wrap, folks. :) Thank you for reading and your comments and kudos, I've loved and appreciated every single one of them. <3


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